City of Sin

SO! Just came back from six days in Amsterdam with my Very Best Male Friend (VBMF). The first couple of days weren't so bad.

Day 1; got a little drunk out of the minibar after eating at Hard Rock Cafè (dishiest waiter ever, covered in tattoos, funny, and a taste of young Tommy Lee meets Chad Michael Murray, luckily I could pretend I was drooling over the food).

Day 2; walking around, museum and such, before hitting a coffeeshop, buying 2 g Afgan weed which we proceeded to crumble over champin-however-the-spelling-of-this-continues pancakes, and eating, getting disappointingly not as high as we wanted, but munchies happened, and we ordered three pizzas off roomservice.

Day 3; cannot for the life of me remember how we spent the day, probably shopping, but ordered food off roomservice again, and then the magic mushrooms happened. I turned three years old and started hitting VBMF with my teddy-elephant (Schnapsi), we giggled a lot, I thought we were on a boat, people on the telly turned funny shapes, and our pupils (you know, the black things in your eyes) were behaving very unusually, growing bigger and smaller out of sync with eachother. All together one of the strangest experiences of my life, and after landing I vowed to become abstinent from pretty much everything. Except sex. Oh, and we unlocked the porn on the telly too. Very interesting. I had to "take care of myself" like three times while pretending to go to the loo.

Day 4-6; rented a pedal-boat for an hour and went up and down the canals. Loads of fun. Shopped a lot. Drank very little, no more weed. Mushrooms scary. Went back to Hard Rock a couple of times more, dishy waiter recognised us and winked at me (want!). The three last days sort of blend into eachother, only thing that stands out is my growing desire to kill VBMF with a spoon of some sort. A sharp spoon. Glowing red-hot. And dripping of something ominus-looking. He snored, breathed more heavily than my grandmother who can barely climb stairs in one go, mumblesd in his sleep, and seemed to have lost the ability to tell me to fuck off when I was being annoying. Oh, and somebody also stole 2 500 euro off him, so I had to pay for everything, which might have added to the tension.

Missed tent-boy... not as much as I'd anticipated. We exchanged a few text, and I bought him a gift, but, well... we'll see. Staying over at his place tomorrow. I have the nagging feeling it might have been a summer-fling sort of crush. Hope not though, he's really a great guy (one of two guy's who has ever "done it" for me in bed, hooray!), and we seem to have a nice thing going when we're together.

Had a dream, very detailed, about an australian guy (who does not excist) named Clapton (because of some thing between his father and Eric Clapton). I met him at work, we started talking and flirting (he looked a bit like Hard-Rock-Dish when I come to think of it), and there was this office party and we kissed. Tent-boy was in the picture in the dream, and I couldn't decide between the two.

It was easier when I was a depressed mess who got drunk all the time. Being happy makes for complicated situations.